Living
by JoyfulyetHesitantPen
Summary: On a cruise to the Bahamas, Bella has an unexpected encounter with a stranger that leaves her reeling.  Will she give in and see him again?  Give whatever is between them another shot even if they only have a few days?  Or will she push him away in favor of focusing solely on the reason she's on the cruise in the first place? J/B AH Rated M for mild language and sexual content.


**A/N: **Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. I am merely playing with her characters. The original plot of Living does belong to me, however.

This is my submission for the Reflections of Summer Non-Canon Fic contest with only very minor edits. It was lucky enough to have been awarded the winner of the public vote and the favorite of Judge Madi, and I am inexpressibly grateful.

Thank you to my beta/pre-reader and sister, Shelljayz, for helping me with this. We both know just how much significance and weight it holds for us, and I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you also to my pre-readers, Laurie Whitlock and juliangelus. Deebelle1 made a beautiful banner for the story that can be found on my photobucket album for my other story, Longing.

Living is loosely based on actual events. Note the word loosely.

oOo

BPOV

I sat at the bar in one of the lounge areas on the cruise ship, a shot glass filled to the brim with rum before me on the polished cherry wood surface. Rum wasn't generally my drink of choice, but I figured when in Rome, and we _were_ headed to the Bahamas. Rum was _the_ liquor in those parts, and if it was good enough for Jack Sparrow, it sure as hell was good enough for me.

I still wasn't sure if I should drink the shot or go for some girly, fruity tropical drink—something a little less hardcore and wouldn't burn as I threw it back—but I needed the buzz, preferably sooner rather than later.

This trip had been great so far. Really. How could four days at Disneyworld and six on a Disney cruise to the Bahamas not be? It wasn't the trip itself that was the problem. It was the reason for it.

This was a family vacation and not in the sense of a contained family unit. It included my extended family on my father, Charlie's, side—his two brothers and their wives, his sister and her husband as well as all their children. That was another great thing about this trip. I loved Charlie's side of the family dearly and didn't get to see them often enough. Also, they were a lot less crazy than my mother, Renée's, family. So again, it wasn't the people on this trip with me that had me so down.

The problem was that my Aunt Esme was dying of lung cancer, though she had never smoked a day in her life, and of course, it was the rarest form of it. We thought she'd beaten it a year ago, but it had come back with a vengeance. I wasn't even sure it had ever really gone away, but there was no saving her from it this time; the chemo wasn't working and she didn't have the gene required to participate in a clinical trial that might spare her life. In a matter of weeks, months if we were lucky, she would be gone, and that was why I was in a bar, contemplating getting shitfaced drunk.

There were times when it was easy to forget the underlying reason for our sea adventure, to have fun and let loose and make everlasting memories to be forever cherished. Then there were times like these when I simply could not shake the very real and quickly approaching reality that my aunt would be gone from my life forever, from everyone's. It didn't help to see how poorly the generally stoic Charlie was coping. He tried to hide it but he was devastated, and it tore me up so damn much.

I had always been a daddy's girl. My whole life, Charlie had represented strength and safety and refuge in the middle of a storm. There was nothing he couldn't do. He was my hero. As I grew into an adult, I came to the conclusion that my father wasn't as perfect as I'd made him out to be in my head, but my opinion of him was still the same and he was the one man in my life who had never let me down. My faith in him was absolute, so to see him, this man who had always been a pillar of strength for me and everyone else he loved, crumble with heartbreak before my very eyes was almost as tragic as my aunt's impending death.

And my Aunt Esme wasn't just any aunt. She was the truly special kind. She was another pillar of strength for me, another person who had never let me down, another I had absolute faith in. Every time I saw her, I always knew with merely a glance into her warm brown eyes—Charlie's eyes, _my_ eyes—just how much she loved me, and that love of hers was endless and unconditional. She had always been there for me both during the good times and the bad, always ready with kind, comforting words that never failed to sooth me. Her arms were always open, prepared to give one of her excellent hugs whether it was just to show how much she loved me or to provide some much needed solace. When I needed an escape, her home was always open, no questions asked, with the knowledge that she was there to talk if that was what I needed. If it was a shoulder to cry on I needed, she was always ready to be that for me too, armed with tissues and patience. In essence, she was always prepared to be whatever I needed her to be whether I knew what my need was or not. That's how she was with everyone, and soon, that would be gone from the world forever. No more sweet smiles, no more sorely needed and always wise and perceptive advice, no more of the best hugs ever. Just sadness and grief left in their wake.

This trip was an item to be checked off her bucket list. She had always wanted our family to be able to go on a vacation together, but it had just never happened. Not _before_. But there was that saying "no time like the present," and the present was all she had left. My Uncle Carlisle was absolutely devoted to Esme and had always been willing to do anything for her. Now was no different. He was a brilliant doctor who had been well-compensated for his talent over the years and had the cash to finance all the travel arrangements for his wife's family, so he had. This trip was, essentially, all expenses paid. I could never express how grateful I was to him for this opportunity to make these final, cherished memories, but there were other, less than pleasant memories that inevitably came with them.

Esme wasn't yet on her deathbed, but she had withered away practically to nothing, bones protruding sharply from beneath her too-thin skin, the toll her disease was taking on her so painfully clear. There were dark circles beneath her kind eyes and such a deep exhaustion in them that it made me tired just to look at her. The chemo had wreaked havoc on her in so many ways, not all of them obvious. She was a woman who loved her food, always adventurous in trying new things. That's how she was in every aspect of her life, but that was gone now. She struggled to eat the same way she sometimes struggled for breath.

I had been able to avoid this terrible reality, the reality that she was truly dying for months, but it was something I could no longer run from.

My eyes pricked with tears that were dangerously close to falling, and I no longer wavered. I palmed the shot glass, lifted it to my lips and threw the liquor back. I didn't even wince as it burned its way down my throat, but a lone tear did escape to make its way in a haphazard path down my cheek and every inhale I took now bore the distinct sound of sniffles. I motioned the bartender for another.

"Mourning the loss of a boyfriend?" a rich, smooth baritone voice came from my left, the sound of a barstool a couple down from mine scraping the shiny wood floor as it was pulled out presumably to be occupied by the owner of said voice.

I rolled my eyes before I turned to face this presumptuous asshole and prepared myself to deliver a venomous and very sarcastic retort, all traces of tears and sniffles abruptly disappearing. Unfortunately, the sight of him struck me dumb for a moment.

He had wavy, shaggy blond hair that hung just past his ears and had clearly been bleached a shade lighter by the summer sun, angular, aquiline features—strong jawline, full, perfectly kissable lips and great cheekbones—and blue eyes the color of the tropical sea. The only imperfect thing about his face was his nose, and I could tell it wasn't that way from any natural flaw. The bridge of it was crooked and slightly misshapen, like it had been broken at least once. It certainly didn't detract from how handsome he was. If anything, it enhanced his attractiveness by giving him character.

He was wearing a white wife beater that stretched taut across his broad, well-muscled shoulders and torso, which tapered down to a narrow waist I could just bet was cut with a delectable deep V, trim hips, long, toned legs worn with board shorts and flip-flop clad feet. All of it was enough to make me drool a little. I was aware the pause as I stopped to admire this rather beautiful stranger would take most of the bite out of my snarky comeback, so I gulped down my second shot and decided against that type of response. It would do me no good to antagonize this man.

"No," I finally answered. Then I cocked a curious eyebrow and asked wryly, "Is that a line you use often?"

The mystery man's mild expression turned sheepish. "No," he replied, his tone just as sheepish as his face. "I've never used it before. I don't typically use lines at all."

I detected a Southern accent I hadn't noticed when he'd first spoken. I drooled a little more. "So why start now?"

"Well, to be honest, pickin' up women in bars has never held much appeal for me," he admitted. He looked reluctant to continue and I didn't understand why until he actually did. "Until you. I've seen you around the ship all day and my interest has been thoroughly piqued, not that I've necessarily been aimin' to pick you up."

He'd noticed me before. That was interesting. Under different circumstances, I was certain I would have noticed a man like him too, but I had been too focused on my family to pay much attention to anything other than spending time with them and the gorgeous scenery, though this guy could definitely be lumped in with it.

"Smooth," I noted with amusement, shooting him a smile.

"I'm Jasper," he said. He still looked slightly sheepish, but he returned my smile and offered me his hand in introduction.

I took it and electricity shot through my body and straight between my thighs. I'd never had that reaction to such a simple touch before, not with any of the men I'd been with at least. It was alarming and it startled me. It was moderately comforting that he seemed just as affected as I was, but I could have been imagining that.

My throat had gone dry, and I couldn't manage to eke out any more than, "Bella."

"Hello, Bella. Now that we've got introductions out of the way, shall I do something incredibly cliché and offer to buy you a drink?" he asked, a playful gleam in those mesmerizing, too-blue eyes of his. "I _am_ new at this, after all."

"You could," I answered, matching his playful air, but when I spoke next, my voice had gone all husky and I pulled my bottom lip almost purposely between my teeth. "But what would you do if I refused your offer?"

Wow! Was I _flirting_? Yes, I think I was. I, Isabella Swan, was flirting. I wasn't surprised because I lacked confidence or a comfort in my own skin. I knew I was an attractive young woman with a decent body and relatively interesting personality when I opened up enough to a person to reveal it, but I shared my father's stoicism and serious demeanor and flirting didn't come naturally to me. Apparently, with Jasper, it did.

"Well," he mused as though he was taking all this very seriously. "I can be very persuasive, what with my innate Southern charm and all. Plus, I'm adorable, especially when I'm determined."

I let out an embarrassingly unattractive snort. "Cocky much?"

He shrugged. "Hey, I'm tryin' for seductive here," he defended with a mock-scowl. "Give a guy a free pass for actin' a little outta character. It's not every day I meet someone I like as much as I like you, which is odd considering we don't actually know each other, nor have I found myself nearly as attracted to anyone in a very long time."

"Alright," I agreed. "I'll give you a free pass ... if only because you _are_ kind of adorable."

Jasper grinned and it lit up his entire face. My breath hitched in my throat.

"So how about that drink?"

oOo

Jasper and I stumbled into his room on clumsy, frenzied feet. It could have been the alcohol, but I was certain it was more from impatience than actual drunkenness. I only felt mildly buzzed, not the shitfaced drunk I'd been shooting for, and the result was a loss of inhibition, _not_ a lapse in judgment, that gave me the courage to make the first move and kiss him ... and then work up the nerve to suggest we go somewhere more private. It was a daring move on my part. This wasn't something I had ever done, but I wanted to forget for a little while, and this way was bound to end a lot nicer than me clutched to the edge of a toilet bowl. It certainly felt a hell of a lot better right now.

His hands felt like they were everywhere, running up my back, trailing down and then back up my sides, cupping the curve of my ass and the swell of my breast and brushing against the skin of my face in a way that seemed far too tender for something like this, bringing that electric feeling to each spot they touched and overwhelming me with heat and want. Those lips that had seemed so deliciously kissable were fused with mine, and man, had I ever been right. They were soft, full and pliable but oh so demanding. The feel of them against mine sent shivers down my spine, and when he brushed his velvety tongue across my bottom one, my knees wobbled. I opened my mouth with no hesitation and Jasper showed none either as he slid it passed my lips and tangled it with my own willing tongue, but it wasn't just a dance of tongues and teeth or of sucking and licking and biting. It was a dance of push and pull, give and take. It was a kiss so mind-boggling that my knees no longer shook but gave out.

Jasper steadied me by pulling me tighter against him and securing a strong arm across my back while the other swept my weak knees off the ground. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, dress hiking up high on my thighs, and my center collided with the bulge his board shorts did nothing to restrict. He was impressive and the feel of him pressed against the most intimate part of my body morphed the electricity I felt at his touch into a full-blown inferno that elicited a throaty, wanton moan. His hips bucked into mine at the sound, and he was the one moaning then as he carried me to the queen-sized bed and took a seat on the edge.

Settling me in his lap, he pushed me away from him far enough to finger the hem of my dress. He met my eyes hesitantly, asking without words if it was okay for him to rid me of it. I nodded and found myself in nothing but my panties so fast that I gasped in surprise, but that was nothing compared to the sharp intake of breath that sounded when Jasper's lips wrapped around my nipple, sucking, tongue laving, teeth nipping. He reached up to work my other breast with his hand, teasing its hardened peak with his fingers. As good as that felt, I forced his mouth and hands off me so I could divest him of his shirt. I needed to feel his skin on mine, and that feeling was absolutely divine. Once that was taken care of, he picked up where he left off, letting his unoccupied hand stroke every inch of skin he could reach, and I wormed my hand between our bodies to palm his cock through his shorts. It caused him to release my nipple with a pop, hissing at my touch, the chill of his breath on my puckered skin almost painful but _so_ good.

Jasper's response encouraged me to move my hand in earnest, working his cock to the best of my ability. He groaned in approval and moved to return the favor, abandoning his exploration of my body, pushing the crotch of my panties aside, pressing his thumb to my clit and making tight circles on the little bundle of nerves. I cried out and writhed wildly, losing my rhythm on his length, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to like it quite a lot because he buried his face in my neck and slipped two fingers inside me deftly, breathing hard against my skin for a moment before he began to trail open-mouthed kisses from its base, up the column of my throat, over the line of my jaw and finally back to my lips. The kiss was no less heated than any of the others we'd shared, and he swallowed my moans and whimpers as I flew higher and higher. When he curled his fingers forward, hitting my g-spot, a spot that had never been hit before, and bore down hard on my clit, I came with a suddenness that blindsided me, Jasper's name spilling from my lips long and low. I slumped against him, boneless.

As I came down, I pulled away to meet his eyes, dark as the ocean on the verge of a storm with lust and something else that caught me off guard: awe. He was looking at me with such awe that I would have blushed except that he was also gazing at me as though I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, so it didn't occur to me to be embarrassed. Instead I kissed him with more passion than I ever thought I was capable and returned my hand to his cock, picking up where I left off.

After a moment, I slithered off his lap to kneel before him as he sat on his bed and tugged at the laces tied at the waist of his board shorts with sure fingers that contradicted how I shook both from nerves and exhilaration on the inside. He was just as impressive as I'd thought, long and thick and standing proudly at attention, and the sight turned me on so much that I moaned. His was perhaps the most impressive and beautiful cock I'd ever seen. I'd never thought of that part of a man as beautiful before, but his was. With confidence, I gripped its base and leaned forward to take him in my mouth, but he stopped me.

"I'm clean," he said, breathless. "I got tested a month ago."

I smiled at his responsible and gentlemanly consideration, deciding to berate myself later for not thinking to ask before and reciprocated. "So am I. I was tested two months ago."

Jasper smiled back and nodded, then let me proceed with no hesitation this time. I swiped my tongue over the tip of his cock, collecting the drop of precum and letting it melt over my taste buds. It wasn't the most pleasant flavor but it never was, and I didn't mind because the taste of his skin made up for it. He sucked in a staccato breath at the feel of it, so I went further, taking the head fully in my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. He cursed colorfully, those dirty words increasing in volume and frequency as well as the dampness in my panties when I enveloped his silky length as far as my gag reflex would allow and began to bob my head, mouth and hand working in tandem. One of his hands made its way to my hair, fingers threading through the strands, but he just rested it there. From the way his other was fisted, white-knuckled, in his comforter, I suspected it was his way of restraining himself from thrusting down my throat like he wanted. The gesture was appreciated and I rewarded it with a hum, snaking my hand into his shorts to give his balls a light tug and then to slip my index finger behind them to massage his perineum.

Jasper growled in pleasure but yanked me away from him. I just stared, waiting for him to explain.

"How far are we takin' this, Bella?" he asked seriously. "Because I don't want to do anything you might regret later."

My eyes were intense, smoldering as I continued to gaze at him. He _needed_ to know that this wasn't something I would regret. "I want you," I told him assuredly, tone husky with desire. "I want to feel you." I moved my hand back to his cock. "All of you." A single upward stroke and another down. He shuddered and fought to keep his eyes on mine instead of fluttering closed. "Everywhere."

I'd made my meaning perfectly clear because Jasper groaned and cursed. "Fuck. You're gonna break my heart."

I frowned and went to ask what he meant by that but he hauled me up by the tops of my arms and crushed his lips to mine before I could, and I was too dizzy and drunk on him, far more than on the alcohol I'd consumed, to have the presence of mind to pull back and demand that he explain.

I settled back on his lap and he groaned. "God, I can feel you, so hot and wet even through your panties. You're killin' me. I want you."

"I know," I returned with a boldness and confidence I'd never displayed before. That wasn't to say I wasn't confident in my sexual skill. I'd just never been so vocal, at least not with words.

He inhaled sharply and flipped me on my back at my response, and I pushed at the waist of his board shorts impatiently. Jasper got my unspoken message and stood, shimmying out of them. They pooled at his feet and he kicked them off with haste. His hands found my panties and ripped them down my legs, tossing them without looking which direction. Neither of us cared.

Now that we were both fully naked, I scrambled backward, the comforter cool and smooth against my skin, until I felt the fluffy pillows cradle my head. Jasper followed after me, watching me intently as I moved and only broke our gaze to flit his to his duffel bag thrown kitty-cornered on the couch. Then he slid off the bed. I let out an indignant protest, but he didn't heed it, merely threw a smug smirk over his shoulder at me as he continued to walk away. I heard the sound of a zipper. When he returned, he had something clutched in his right hand, and I understood his retreat.

He placed the condom on my other side and positioned himself next to me, impossibly close to my side, propping his head on his hand as he ran his eyes appreciatively over my body. I couldn't help but do the same, and the sight of him took my breath away. Jasper was all sharp lines and smooth muscle, but as gorgeous as he was, he wasn't absolute perfection. A pin-straight scar stretched from just under his left pec and down nearly to his belly button, the white flesh even softer if more sinewy-feeling than the tanned skin that covered the rest of his body as my fingers caressed it, causing a shiver to run through him.

His unoccupied hand followed his gaze, stroking with a light touch and soft fingertips. It drove me crazy, and I whimpered both in frustration and delight. He cupped the back of my knee, running the slightly rough pad of his thumb across its smooth expanse, before he hitched it over his hip. Then he reached between us and ran a finger through my folds, testing me, and cursed again. He went to grab for the condom, but I beat him to it and tore it open with my teeth—I doubted I would have been successful if I'd tried with my hands; they were shaking. I kissed him as I rolled it down his length, and he breathed hard against my mouth at the feel of my hand on him. Then he was hovering over me and positioning himself at my entrance.

"Please," I whimpered, begging him to move forward and sheath himself inside me. I wanted it so badly I felt like I would crawl out of my skin if he didn't, and soon.

Most guys would have tortured me, would have asked, "Please what?" But Jasper didn't. He merely gave me what I'd pleaded for and slid into me, bringing such relief that I sighed. When he began to move with leisurely, shallow thrusts, that sigh turned into a gasp, and I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth at the pleasure of it. He refused to let it linger there, catching my lips in another frantic kiss and prying that lip away from where I'd ensnared it. He nipped it with just enough pressure to draw a moan deep from my chest, walls instinctively tightening around his cock in my surprise at his gesture. It elicited a groan from him, and I finally unfroze—those first delicious thrusts had paralyzed me—but now instinct was kicking in.

_Move, move, move, _it demanded. So I did.

Wrapping my legs high around his waist, I matched him thrust for thrust, clit brushing his pubic bone every time he buried himself to the hilt; the sensation sent shivers of pleasure through my body, and my fingernails dug desperately into the muscles of his shoulders. I knew when this was over there would be little welts left behind as illicit proof of us being together. The notion that everyone would see that proof when he took his shirt off to go in the pool or anywhere else where one wasn't required sent a thrill through me that was oddly possessive.

Hands were everywhere, fingers clutching, lips alternately exploring wherever they could reach and finding each other in passionate, sloppy kisses that swallowed our moans, groans and curses as we propelled each other higher and higher. The haze of pleasure enveloped me, _us_, until everything else faded away, ecstasy coiling ever-tighter in my belly as Jasper expertly worked my desire-slicked walls and hit all the spots that drove me crazy.

I always closed my eyes when I came, but when that coil snapped and bliss pulsed through my body in staggering waves, our eyes met, gazes burning and consuming, and I could not look away. The emotion in his eyes as his mouth dropped open and he breathed my name in his own bliss was enough to steal the already labored breath from my lungs.

The last thing that went through my head before I drifted off to sleep was that one-night stands weren't supposed to be like this. They weren't supposed to be so intense or mind-boggling. They weren't supposed to make me question everything I knew about love and relationships. They weren't supposed to make me feel like this, like I had finally found something I'd been missing for a very long time.

oOo

My eyes fluttered open as they were assaulted by the brightness of the morning sun, and at first, I didn't remember that I wasn't in my own room. Jasper's cabin looked exactly the same as mine in the light of day, and in my grogginess, I simply could not differentiate between the two … except for the warm, naked body thoroughly entwined with my equally bare one. It took me a moment to register that I was in someone's arms because the only thing I could think was that I had a bit of a headache from the shots of rum the night before and I was too damn hot. It was only when I wriggled around in an attempt to throw the sheets off me that the night before came flooding back because as I squirmed, a pair of very nicely built arms tightened around me, pulling me closer to long, hard muscles as well as something else that was tantalizingly hard and long.

My movement elicited a gravelly, throaty groan from Jasper, and my memories of the night before swirled around my brain even more intensely, particularly the epicly hot sex. Now my dilemma wasn't whether or not to drink; it was whether or not I should take advantage of this amazingly sexy man's morning wood. The question was, would he want me to?

I couldn't ask him that though because the neon red of the numbers on the alarm clock by the bed caught my attention and answered my question for me. It was ten after nine in the morning and I was supposed to be meeting my family for breakfast at half-past, which wouldn't be a problem if Jasper's cabin wasn't clear on the other side of the ship from mine. It was why I had insisted we go there.

My room was sandwiched between my dad's and my Uncle Marcus, his wife and their two younger kids'. When I had drunk sex, I got loud whether the sex was good or not; forgive me if I didn't want to advertise my unusual hookup or prompt a premature explanation about the birds and bees to my cousins from my uncle, and the sex _had_ been mind-blowingly good. I would have gotten loud whether I was drunk off my ass or sober, so my precaution hadn't been for naught.

The thing was, I had never meant to actually stay with Jasper after we were done, also for that reason. The chance that I might run in to Charlie or any of my uncles, aunts or cousins was high, and I hadn't wanted to risk it. In that respect, falling asleep in Jasper's arms might not have been so bad if not for a few things: every single one of my family members already knew the dress I wore yesterday, which was now gloriously wrinkled as it lay, haphazard, on the bedroom floor of Jasper's cabin, I still reeked of my tryst with him, and I suspected I looked the picture of what I was: as though I had been thoroughly fucked. It was for those reasons that that measly twenty minute window to get to breakfast had me freaking out—I would need at _least_ that long to get back to my room to change, wash my face and attempt to mask my atrocious bed-head before I could eat with the people whose genes I shared. Awkward was not a word I wanted to associate with this tropical vacation.

"Shit," I cursed loudly, lucky my headache was probably more from sleeping in a strange position and not a hangover, and wrenched myself from Jasper's embrace to scramble across the bed.

I nearly tripped over the sheets that had wrapped around one of my ankles as I went and face-planted on the floor, but a large, slightly calloused hand caught my arm before I could.

I threw a "thanks" over my shoulder and hurriedly pulled my badly wrinkled dress over my head, hopping from foot to foot as I slipped each of my sandals on. I didn't turn around until I was fully clothed, and the sight of the rumpled, groggy but still incredibly sexy man no longer covered by the sheets lying in that bed and looking at me with bleary-eyed confusion would have had me stripping back down and straddling his still prominent erection if not for Esme, my beautiful, terminally ill aunt, who was now awake and I could be spending this time with her.

"I have to go," I said.

"I gathered that," Jasper responded in a bewildered, sleep-roughened voice.

"Thank you for last night," I added, and he truly had no idea just how thankful for it I was. He had saved me from the descending fog of depression fuelled by my inability to control what was happening. I could forget about it during the day and have fun when I was by Esme's side, but not at night. Never at night. But he had made me. "I had a really good time."

I knew what this looked like, that I had used him, and I suppose, in a way, I had. It hadn't been my intention and I knew it made me a bitch. I felt horrible about it, but I didn't see how to change it. I genuinely liked Jasper, more than I'd liked a guy in a long time, which made no sense considering I had spent mere hours with him, only three of which had been consumed by conversation. He was the type of guy I could see myself having more than just a fling with, but this cruise lasted six days and there were only five left. Not to mention that my purpose here wasn't to meet guys. I couldn't trade the opportunity to spend time with my aunt for sex, no matter how amazing it was. Besides, I had no idea if Jasper even wanted any more than one night.

He frowned but said nothing, and I tried to ignore the poorly-concealed hurt that flashed across his features.

I left without looking back, and it was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.

oOo

Breakfast had gone off without a hitch even though I was ten minutes late. My cousin Emmett, Esme and Carlisle's son, said nothing to mock me, and he most definitely would have if he suspected what I'd gotten up to the night before. His fiancée, Rosalie, didn't appear to be suspicious either nor did anyone else, so it looked like I was in the clear.

That was a relief. What was not was the look on Jasper's face just before I left. I couldn't banish it from my head, and it was driving me insane. I had hurt him, and I felt awful, so awful that I barely heard a word anyone said as we ate. I didn't even notice that Esme was watching me curiously and with concern throughout the whole meal, but I would later.

oOo

It was later that day, the sun making its descent from the sky to beyond the sea, leaving streaks of brilliant orange, pink, red and finally purple in its wake. The salt smell of the ocean caressed my nose, leaving me oddly refreshed and at peace for the moment.

Several of us were at the pool. Esme and I were in lounge chairs beside it while Emmett terrorized our younger cousins in the water and Rosalie just stood by watching with amusement. Charlie, Uncle Carlisle, Uncle Marcus and Uncle Billy had gone to one of the bars for a lesson in whiskey history, which was really just an excuse to drink several different kinds as a bartender informed them of the ins and outs of distilling it. It was one of the only times Esme had been able to convince her husband to leave her side while she was awake during this trip, and I suspected it would be one of the last.

"Are you having fun, my love?" Esme asked softly.

I turned to look at her and found her studying me carefully. I smiled at her. "Of course I'm having fun. This trip has been amazing," I promised.

"You seemed distant at breakfast this morning," was her response to that. "You still seem distracted as a matter of fact."

She was right of course. I was no better off now in regard to my distress over how things had ended between Jasper and I earlier than I had been then, only a new emotion had set in besides mere awfulness: guilt. There was also misery and a strong desire to search the ship until I found him and apologized, but that was inadvisable. If I did that, I didn't know where we would end up, if I could resist giving in to the magnetic, primal attraction between us.

"You know how I get, Aunt Esme," I evaded, I hoped with subtlety, and a half-hearted shrug. "So lost in my own little world that I completely forget about the real one."

"Yes," she said fondly. "It's one of my favorite things about you, that imagination of yours. One of these days, it's going to take you to all the places you've ever dreamed of going. I just wish I could be here to see it when it does."

I smiled thinly. I loved that she had such faith in me, but my hopes weren't so high as hers. "Maybe … someday."

I refused to acknowledge her last statement. The idea that she wouldn't be here to witness any success I might have—_if_ I ever achieved what she so wholeheartedly believed I could—shredded my heart to pieces, leaving me with a hollow feeling in my gut, and I didn't want to cry in front of her. I had been unhappy for a very long time, most of my life in fact, due to circumstances beyond my control. I wanted her to see me light and carefree while she could, to show her that I was getting better now. I wanted her to have that, the knowledge that I would be okay when she unwillingly left us all behind.

oOo

The next morning I was yet again lounging by the pool with Aunt Esme, who was clad in a bathing suit and cover-up that only served to enhance and draw attention to her cancer-riddled body. She was wearing her favorite purple scarf, coiled around her head to hide the hair loss from the chemo—wigs were too much of a hassle to bother with unless it was a more formal occasion, and she always liked to look her best. The near-baldness didn't look bad on her though; she was just as beautiful as ever, even if her illness had lain waste to her.

This time we were joined by Charlie and Carlisle. We had reached our destination—Castaway Cay in the Bahamas—only hours ago, and he and I were scheduled to go parasailing in an hour. The rest of our group was set to go snorkeling not much later than our outing, and most had yet to make an appearance for various reasons. In the case of the adults, the majority of those reasons had something to do with alcohol.

Luckily for me, Charlie and Carlisle had gone to fetch Aunt Esme something to drink and eat when he approached. He looked nervous, shifting from one foot to the other before he caught and composed himself, but he still grasped the back of his neck in that telltale guy gesture that betrayed one of several emotions: uncertainty, confusion and nervousness, amongst other things.

"Hi, Bella," Jasper greeted me, his voice steady despite the placement of his hand.

"Hi, Jasper," I greeted back, hoping dearly that my voice didn't sound shocked or terrified. I suspected I had failed to hide both, and that was exactly what I wanted to do—hide. Though I had thought long and hard about finding him to apologize, to the point that it had kept me up the night before, and had been seriously tempted, now that he was standing before me, I felt the intense urge to crawl underneath a rock or wished that a hole would open up in the deck beneath me and swallow me whole. I had never been good with confrontation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Esme was watching us intently, clearly curious. She knew I was uncomfortable. After years of offering me her shoulder to cry on, gathering up the snotty tissues and tossing them away and picking up the pieces of me when all was said and done, she didn't need to ask. She was also a clever woman who was intimately familiar with my past and the way I got with guys. I'd had boyfriends, of course, even been in love, but I didn't seek them out and she knew I didn't do random hookups. Jasper and I had exchanged a total of four words in her presence, but only an incredibly daft person wouldn't have been able to sense the tension between us, some of it awkward and some still clearly sexual. I was no expert on this kind of thing, but awkwardness only happened when something had _happened_, whether it went as far as sex or not. She may not have known exactly how far Jasper and I had gone, but she did know we had gone _somewhere_.

"Uh," Jasper faltered, still uncertain. "Do you think we could talk?"

I drew my bottom lip between my teeth out of habit as I deliberated, torn, not failing to notice the way he followed the subconscious maneuver with darkened eyes despite our uncomfortable situation. I owed him this, but I didn't want to leave Esme. I glanced in her direction, meeting her gaze before I really thought about it, seeking her approval. As always, her eyes were kind, understanding, loving. Her only response was a nod. I sighed, partly in trepidation. I had almost hoped she wouldn't give me her permission, that she would demand that I stay with her. I should have known she wouldn't. I gave her a small nod in return before I brought my attention back to Jasper, who had been watching my aunt and I just as intently as she had the two of us only moments before.

Bolstering as much courage as I could, I got to my feet, running my hands down my bare torso and over my hips to smooth nonexistent clothes in a nervous gesture, which Jasper also followed with hawk-like intensity. "Sure."

Moving to his side, I followed him as he led me away. I didn't think to wonder where and how far he intended to take me for this conversation of ours but was uncharacteristically unworried about it. I was again thankful that my father and uncle had gone off to get Esme a drink and that the rest of my family, the ones who would give me shit for this, had yet to join us at the pool.

Jasper and I ended up in the ship's movie theater, which was in between showings of _Toy Story 3_ and _The Sorcerer's Apprentice_ and had already been cleaned up by the staff. It was deserted and an excellent place for the conversation we were about to have.

"So," he began, his discomfort plain. "You left awfully quick yesterday morning."

I grimaced. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"I told you I didn't want you to do anything you would regret," he said, steel in his tone now. "I _asked_ you."

"I don't regret it," I assured him, and that wasn't a lie. I truly _didn't_ regret what had happened between us. I didn't consider it a mistake.

It didn't look like he believed me. "Most people don't hightail it away from a guy like the devil's on their heels if they don't."

My eyes narrowed, and I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. "I had somewhere to be, and I didn't expect to sleep so late."

I was still defensive but that was put on the backburner in that moment. A blush heated my cheeks as I remembered waking up wrapped in Jasper's arms, feeling the phantom warmth of his arms around me, the whisper of his skin on mine and how pleasant it was. I was not unaffected and the last thing I needed right now was to get all hot and bothered or to be reminded of how nice being with him had been.

Though he looked intrigued by my sudden shift in emotion, his own eyes narrowed and he crossed his own arms over his chest. "That sounds like a bunch of bullshit, Bella."

Anger flared in me with a sudden ferocity that had me clenching my fists beneath their perch under my still crossed arms, and I scowled. It petered out just as quickly as it had ignited though, and I sighed, rubbing my hands over my face before I responded. Now was the time to explain myself. "I told you the other night that I don't do things like this. I know I handled things badly yesterday, but I _am_ sorry for that. I don't know what I'm doing and I also know it seems like I used you, and maybe I did, but that wasn't my intention. I like you, Jasper. I really do, but I wasn't expecting this. I wasn't expecting _you_. We talked about a lot of things at the bar, but there's a lot we _didn't_ talk about. I guess I should explain."

Truthfully, I didn't know if he wanted an explanation or if he'd just dragged me aside to rip me a new asshole for being a bitch.

"That would be nice."

"This trip isn't about meeting people for me," I started, biting my lip again and shifting my gaze away from him. "You know the woman I was with?"

He nodded.

"That's my Aunt Esme," I told him, my voice cracking with emotion. "There were times in my life when she was more of a mother to me than my actual mother. She helped my father raise me when my mom was busy with other things, and she means the world to me," I said, eyes filling with bitter tears at my revelation. It was embarrassing, and even though I felt like I'd known Jasper for years rather than days, I didn't like being so vulnerable in front of him. "She's dying." One of those traitorous tears slipped down my cheek and I scrubbed it away. "Lung cancer. She's always wanted to go on a vacation with our whole family, but it never happened until now. It's something my uncle wanted to give her before …" _she dies_. I couldn't utter the words. In the light of day, I couldn't face them anymore. "As much as I like you, as great as the other night was, I can't do whatever this—" I gestured between us— "is. This whole thing is about her. I can't miss out on time with her because of a guy I won't ever see again four days from now. Please," I begged desperately, reaching for his hands and squeezing them, eyes imploring and blurry with my still-present tears. The contact was just as electric and intoxicating as the other night. I didn't want to let go. "Please understand."

Jasper let out forceful gust of air and his hands twitched, but he didn't seem aware of the movement. "You have no idea how much I wish you were just a bitch with a shitty reason for ending whatever this could have been, even if we _do_ only have a few days."

I smiled sadly and squeezed his hands once more before I released them. He managed to squeeze mine back before I did.

He returned my smile ruefully. "I knew you would break my heart."

Another tear escaped, leaving a salty trail in its wake. Jasper reached out, running his thumb across my cheek, wiping it away when I'd had no intention of doing it myself. This hurt way more than it should. On impulse, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tight and hoping he could feel that. "I really am sorry," I whispered.

He reciprocated my embrace, holding me even tighter than I was him. I let it go on for longer than was safe, and when I pulled back, I pressed my lips to his cheek to express my gratitude for everything he'd done for me, how much solace he'd provided. This time, when I pulled away, intending to walk away from him again, he was the one who acted on impulse, capturing my lips in a kiss that scorched me to my bones, went straight to my soul.

We separated after an age, mouths having danced together until neither of us could breathe. When Jasper kissed me, I forgot all about breathing.

He gave me a somber, crooked smile. "I guess I'll see you around."

I tried but I couldn't return his smile. "Yeah."

This time he was the one who walked away. That was good. As resolute as I was in my decision, I didn't know if I could manage to do it again.

oOo

It was the fourth day of the cruise, and things were going well. I was having fun, I was happy, I was making invaluable memories. I was also miserable, wallowing in the "what ifs" and occasionally losing myself in the world that was all my own, though this time it was based more in reality than in any of the stories that were always playing out in my head. I missed Jasper, as dumb as that was. I shouldn't have been so attached to him after so short a time.

Of course, Esme noticed. She always noticed.

We were having a spa day today, accompanied by Rosalie and Aunt Sarah, Uncle Billy's wife; Aunt Deedee, Uncle Marcus' wife, had been unable to make the trip at all because she'd needed to get her wisdom teeth pulled. Renée hadn't made it either.

Esme and I were currently alone, our two companions already having abandoned our mud bath and disappeared to shower off the remnants.

I was lost in that world of mine again, only brought back from it by the sound of Esme's soft, concerned voice. "What's the matter, Bella?"

I dropped my gaze to what would have been my lap if I wasn't currently submerged in mud and sighed. "Nothing."

It was a lie and she knew it. "Please be honest with me, my love."

I couldn't help but chuckle at her ability to see through me. "I'm having fun," I said, reiterating my promise from two days ago. "I really am, but I'm kind of down too. I'm sure you can guess why."

"I can," she murmured with melancholy that somehow managed to remain untainted by bitterness. "I have a feeling it might also be something else as well."

Of course she knew that too. "Maybe," I admitted reluctantly, a treasonous blush painting my cheeks pink with shame. I so wished certain emotions weren't so easily advertised on my face. "A little, but it really is nothing."

Esme smiled sympathetically. "The young man who came by yesterday. Jasper?" she guessed shrewdly.

I frowned, my blushed flaring hotter. "How did you know?"

There was no point in denying it now. I didn't like lying to her and it was useless anyway.

"I'm a mother," she answered simply. Then her expression turned devilish. "I'm also a woman, and he certainly is handsome. Worth the walk of shame, I imagine."

I gasped, mouth falling open in astonishment. I knew the woman was smart, that she often knew what was going through my head, but how on earth did she know _that_? I didn't think it was possible, but my blush deepened. After a moment, my mouth shut with an audible snap and I spluttered, struggling to scramble for a response to that.

"Is that a yes?" she queried, still mischievous and genuinely curious of my answer.

"Um," I still stuttered. "Yes."

Esme grinned broadly and laughed at my expense but not in a malicious way. "I'm happy for you, my love."

"But—" I protested, shocked. "I don't do those kinds of things. I don't—"

"I know," she replied. "But it's okay to make an exception sometimes. He seems like a nice young man."

"He is," I agreed, trying not to sound shy but failing. Esme and I had discussed many things over the years, from deep and profound to silly and light. We'd never really talked about guys, at least not about _this_ stuff.

"Are you going to see him again?" she asked with interest.

"No," I answered with no hesitation.

"Why not?" she demanded, her voice on the cusp of sharp, eyes flashing.

"I just—" I paused, attempting to find the right words. "You _know_ why, and what's the point? It's six days, and three of them are already gone."

Esme tsked. "So?" she challenged. "You can't let your life pass you by, Bella. You have to live it. You like him, more than I've seen in a long time. Take a chance. Do something crazy instead of sticking to what's safe."

"I can't. I just can't." I sighed. I didn't know how to explain it.

"One thing I've always worried about is that you never follow your heart," she confessed. "You ignore what you really want. You ignore your instincts. You have to stop that, Bella. It's holding you back. I only want you to be happy, to know that when I'm gone you'll be okay."

For the umpteenth time in the past few days, my eyes filled with tears. "_This_ is where my heart wants to be," I insisted emphatically, reaching out between our tubs, burying my hand beneath the mud hiding hers and grasping it. "With you."

She smiled again, fondly. "I know, but I won't be here soon, baby. You'll have your dad and your mom and Emmett and your other friends, but you need more than that. So tell me," Esme implored me, voice and eyes tinged with desperation, "what does your heart want? What is your heart telling you it needs?"

I broke my gaze from hers. I knew what my heart wanted, and so did she. Jasper. I wanted Jasper. "But it's crazy!" I exclaimed, releasing her hand and throwing both of mine up, mud flying through the air as a result of the harsh movement. "I hardly know him. I spent _one_ night with him!"

"Maybe not so crazy," she said. "Sometimes love comes slow. You know the person for months or years before you figure it out or the timing is just off until it isn't. That's how it was for your uncle Carlisle and I," she continued wistfully. "But sometimes it doesn't come slow. Sometimes love hits you like a freight train, the way it did for your mom and dad."

I may not have always felt like Renée was the best mother, but if there was one thing I could say about her, it was that she loved my dad fiercely and deeply.

"Love is one of those things without rhyme or reason, Bella," Esme said. "You can't explain it or make sense of it, whether it sneaks up on you slowly or blindsides you. I don't know about love at first sight … if it exists, but that doesn't mean it doesn't. But does it really matter how fast you fall? I don't think it does. Even if you only experience it for a few days, it isn't something you should pass up. If you feel it in your bones, don't ignore it. Go with it, my love. Just feel."

And she was right … again. Was what I felt for Jasper love? I wasn't so sure about that, but it was strong and it was true, and if Jasper and I had more than just a few days, love was what it would be. Maybe it _was_ crazy, but I felt _that_ in my bones.

"I like him, you know," Esme told me. "He looks at you the way Carlisle has always looked at me."

I frowned again. She saw and clarified, "Like you're everything. Maybe it's silly or crazy given the circumstances, but it is what it is."

"I don't know if I know how to do that," I said. "Go with it, I mean. Just feel."

"But that doesn't mean you can't," she responded. "You never know until you try. Be happy, Bella. Do it for yourself … and for me?"

Damn, she knew where to hit where it hurt. How could I deny her that?

"Maybe."

"I love you, sweetheart," Esme said softly. "With my whole heart."

I gave her the best smile I could muster. "I love you too."

oOo

I had contemplated Esme's words for hours, agonizing over them as I continued to spend time with my family. I was restless, fidgety and distracted because of it; my behavior had Charlie concerned, but I refused to tell him the cause behind it. Because _that_ wouldn't be an awkward and uncomfortable conversation.

It was late now, nearly half-past eleven. Emmett and Rosalie had been disappointed and mildly suspicious when I begged off their attempts to convince me to join them for drinks and hot-tubbing, but I had other plans. If I didn't act now, I might chicken out.

I stood before his door, wringing my hands and biting my lip in my anxiety as I worked up the nerve to knock. After yesterday, how would he react to my suddenly showing up? Would he turn me away?

Rapping my knuckles as firmly against his door as I could manage, I held my breath and waited. He might not even be here.

Jasper answered the door a few moments later, shirtless, hair dripping either from a recent shower or dip in the pool. My mouth went dry at the sight and I swallowed hard.

His surprise at my unexpected appearance was evident on his face. "Bella?" he questioned, confused. "What are you doin' here?"

I exhaled shakily and planted my hands on his chest, pushing him back into his cabin before I crushed my lips to his. Our kiss was passionate and searing but there was a depth and tenderness there that promised more than a couple of days of hot sex. It promised something meaningful, something that would stay with me for the rest of my life. It was another thing I owed to Aunt Esme, another thing I would be forever grateful to her for.

"Living," I replied.

The grin that spread across his face was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and my answering smile was blissful and wide.

oOo

_For my beloved aunt. You are so very missed._

oOo

**A/N:** I am not going to mark this as complete yet because I am toying with the idea of continuing it for one or two more chapters. I'm just not sure when those chapters will be written.

I hope you enjoyed it.

Take care! :)


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